


all this relentless taking in

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cuddling, Established Relationship (standrew), Getting Together, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, PWP, Podfic Welcome, porn without plot/plot what plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 07:19:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15310278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Really, they aren’tfullyto blame. Only partially.Really.





	all this relentless taking in

**Author's Note:**

> this idea came to me late at night a few days back and i managed to crank it out last night before bed! this is some fun, smutty standrew turned stadamrew. huge thanks to hannah for beta'ing, as always!!
> 
> enjoy!

It starts when they check into the hotel.

The three of them arrive jet-lagged and exhausted; they barely manage to mumble their way through the conversation with the lady at the front desk. Looking back, Andrew vaguely recalls something about their requested booking—that is, two separate rooms—being unavailable, and would it be alright for them to take a two-bed suite instead? Adam remembers agreeing if only to have a place to set their equipment down. Steven remembers none of this, but he’s sure that’s probably what happened.

After they stop by the room to drop off their things and chug some overly sugary energy drinks to get the pep back in their step, it’s back out the door. They don’t even discuss the nature of the room before they’re off to their first location for the latest Worth It episode. It’s an early morning start and there’s no time to waste, no matter how much they all just want to sleep.

They make it through two of their three spots on the first day, just as planned. They stay a little longer at the last restaurant just because they can. Adam gets plenty of b-roll, and Andrew shares cocktails with Steven. By the time they’re piled back into the car, Adam is the driver—Steven had been, at the start of their day—and the lovebirds are canoodling drunkenly in the back the entire ride back to the hotel. It’s nice, and familiar, and fun.

So clearly, it’s not _just_ Andrew’s fault, or _just_ Steven’s fault. It’s several factors playing off one another that lead to the incident. Clearly.

 

Steven shifts as Andrew’s hands start to run over his body. They’re tangled together under the blanket. The mattresses are a little stiff, the bedframe a bit squeaky—Steven learned this by leaping onto the bed and immediately regretting his choices—but none of that stops Steven from leaning into Andrew’s touch.

“Andrew,” he breathes, eyes still shut from almost falling asleep. He tilts his head back and Andrew tucks his face against Steven’s neck. “What’re you doing?”

Andrew smirks against his neck. “What’s it feel like?” He asks in the same moment his hand glides across Steven’s hip and makes a beeline for his stiffening cock. His boxer-briefs are suddenly too restrictive and Steven aches to have them off. Steven muffles his yelp of surprise by slapping a hand over his mouth, but he still thrusts into Andrew’s loose grasp.

“Andrew!” Steven hisses. It’s not like they haven’t fooled around on Worth It trips before, but he _was_ almost asleep.

Andrew kisses his shoulder sweetly. “We’ll be quiet,” he says. “There was lube in the bedside table.”

Steven can’t smother his laugh. “What?”

“I was looking for a pad to write down some notes for a video idea and found it. Hotel brand.” Andrew rolls away as he speaks and Steven squirms at the chill that runs along his back from his boyfriend’s absence. Andrew returns after a moment and holds the tiny bottle of lube up in Steven’s line of vision.

“It looks like hand sanitizer,” Steven whispers, a little concerned.

“I know,” Andrew agrees. “But it’s not.”

Steven looks over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow.

“I tested it! Just on my fingers. To make sure.” Andrew’s free hand moves to toy with the tips of Steven’s hair. “We don’t have to.”

Heat is already boiling in Steven’s gut and despite the sleepiness tugging at him, the idea of stopping just flat out _sucks_. “No, no, please.” He reaches up with a shaking hand to flick open the cap of the lube.

Andrew lets out a disbelieving laugh and kisses Steven’s shoulder. “Love you so much.”

Ever so gently, he rolls Steven onto his front. “This okay?” Andrew asks as he pulls at Steven’s hips, helping to get his knees under him.

Not trusting his voice, Steven nods. He lets Andrew continue and slide his boxer-briefs down to his knees. He wonders when Andrew stripped down, but lets the other man get between his spread legs and run reverent hands over his ass. One hand slides up the knobs of Steven’s spine before disappearing and leaving another chill in its wake.

“Gonna start now,” Andrew whispers.

“Okay,” Steven hisses back. He braces his elbows on the bed to hike his ass higher in the air. He listens to the sloppy, slick sounds of Andrew dribbling lube onto his fingers, warming it up and making sure he’s coated. Steven stiffens as Andrew’s fingertips brush his asshole, but he relaxes second by second as the familiar sensations sooth him.

Andrew toys with him at first because he knows it’ll get Steven to relax. He rubs two fingertips over Steven’s hole until he’s canting back into Andrew’s touch and mewling quietly, desperately.

“You gotta keep quiet,” Andrew chides, and Steven knows he’s right even if can’t quite think of why. Courtesy to their hotel neighbors, maybe.  

Steven nods frantically and presses his face into his arms as though that’ll help. It won’t, he knows. Nothing short of a tried and true gag can keep him silent when Andrew plays his body like a finely tuned instrument. He’s going to try his damndest though.

Andrew starts with one finger and Steven lets out a content sigh. He arches his back and shudders as Andrew sinks into him, thick and easy to take, familiar but not enough. Steven lets out as quiet of a whine as he dares, and Andrew reads him like a book. The next thrust, Andrew uses two fingers, and it takes Steven’s breath away.

“Oh,” Steven breathes. He writhes and works his hips back against Andrew’s fingers. The thrusts are unrelenting and determined, but not so fast that it hurts. “Andrew,” he sighs, “please.”

Andrew’s fingers curl and graze Steven’s prostate before he asks, “are you sure?”

“One more,” Steven hisses. “One more, please.”

Andrew doesn’t reply but obliges. Three fingers are a tighter fit, but the lube slicks the way, and Steven’s still pretty lax from the booze at dinner tonight. He feels loose-limbed and comfortable, content. Andrew works him open diligently; he leans down at odd intervals to pepper the small of Steven’s back with heavy kisses, some turning into pinkish love bites.

Steven whines when Andrew’s fingertips skirt over his prostate on every other thrust. “Okay, okay,” he says. “I’m ready.”

Andrew pauses, then slowly slides his fingers out. They’re both silent and the only noise that fills the room is Andrew slicking up his own straining prick. “Ready?” He asks.

Steven buries his smile in his arms and sways his hips. “Ready,” he agrees. “Please, Andrew.”

Andrew lets out a stuttering breath. His clean hand grips Steven’s hip to hold him steady, and he guides himself in with his lube-sticky hand. He pushes in carefully, but he slips into Steven’s body easily. Steven’s relaxed, and the stretch is too good for him to tense up against. Steven holds his breath until Andrew bottoms out, and it feels like an agonizing several minutes when it’s probably barely one.

Steven lets out a desperate exhale and spots dance behind his eyelids.

“Okay?” Andrew asks in a gravelly tone.

“Yeah,” Steven moans. “C’mon, Andrew.”

Andrew doesn’t waste any more time. His slick hand braces against the center of Steven’s back and it’s gross and sticky but Steven doesn’t even care at this point. He grinds back against Andrew’s measured thrusts until it’s just not enough, and he moans, _“faster.”_

Steven doesn’t need to look over his shoulder to know Andrew is smirking. He immediately starts to thrust faster and, distantly, Steven knows the bed is shaking and smacking against the wall. The rickety bedframe is creaking under the force of the thrusts, and the walls here are probably paper thin. He has half a mind to tell Andrew to stop, or slow down, or something, but there’s finally a blaze of pleasure running along his spine and he just can’t let that go.

He rises onto his palms slowly to get better leverage for moving back against Andrew. He tilts his head back and loses himself in the sensation. Andrew splits him open just right, thick but not so much it hurts; it aches in the perfect way, a way Steven’s found himself addicted to ever since they started dating.

“Oh,” he moans weakly, unable to tamp down his noises. “Oh, Andrew, fuck.”

“Yeah?” Andrew groans back. His hand, still tacky with lube, moves up and grips Steven’s shoulder. He uses the hold to pull Steven back against him and fuck into him harder, faster, rougher. The sheets are rucked up under them and the bed looks like an absolute disaster. The room is quickly starting to smell like sex and sweat and Steven cries out as Andrew’s cock slides over his prostate.

The pleasure is so sharp and startling that Steven’s eyes flutter open. For a moment, all he can do is stare at the boring, beige hotel wall and the equally dull wooden bedframe. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open, especially as he feels Andrew shift behind him to change the angle so that he’s hitting Steven’s prostate on nearly every thrust. It’s a skill, Steven thinks, like cooking or writing—Andrew’s unrelenting, and determined to drive Steven crazy.

A particularly hard thrust has Steven gasping and dropping to his elbows again. His arms were getting tired anyway, and his head is swimming from lust. He pushes his forehead against his arms and tries to think through the haze, tries to make sense of anything or at the very least keep his orgasm at bay as long as possible.

He turns his head to the right when he starts to feel suffocated by his arms and the hotel sheets, and finds Adam staring back.

“Oh, fuck,” he squeaks.

“Yeah?” Andrew asks, sounding lust-stupid and cocky.

“No, no, Andrew, I mean—Adam, _Adam_.”

Andrew’s thrusts halt so fast it’s almost funny. He still has one hand on Steven’s shoulder and one on his hip and his fingers clench and unclench rhythmically. “Uh.”

Steven is staring at Adam with wide eyes and can only imagine that Andrew is doing the same. “Adam, fuck, we’re so—?”

Andrew shushes him, which is kind of annoying, but sort of hot. It’s then that Steven notices Andrew hasn’t softened at all; neither has Steven, and that’s a bit of a revelation.

“Adam,” Andrew speaks loud and clear and confident. “You wanna watch?” His voice has dropped an octave, the way it does when he’s trying to push Steven past the brink from words alone. Or when he’s feeding them especially good food. Steven’s noticed the tones tend to overlap.

Steven blinks and realizes he zoned out. He forces himself to focus and he finally notices the slight tent in Adam’s blanket. His mouth goes dry at the sight. “Oh,” he breathes quietly. “Adam.”

Adam’s blushing, visible even in the near darkness of the room.

“Are you okay with that, Steven?” Andrew murmurs. “You okay with Adam watching?”

Steven nods frantically once more, so much that it makes him dizzy. “Please.” He hides part of his face against his arms but keeps his eyes trained on Adam. He watches intently as Adam shifts under the blanket, clearly kicking off his sleep pants and boxers. He hesitates then, and his gaze flicks between the two of them with uncertainty.

“I wanna see,” Steven pants. “Please, Adam, can I see?”

That’s apparently the exact right thing to say, and Andrew squeezes Steven’s hip as a reward. They both watch as Adam draws down the hotel blanket until it’s pooling across his thighs. His pajamas and boxers are bunched around his knees, and it looks awkward, but his cock is hard and straining against his stomach.

Steven’s mouth is watering, and he whines. “Oh, god.”

Andrew finally starts thrusting again, in the same moment that Adam curls a hand around himself and starts stroking. Steven gasps for air as he watches Adam’s eyes rake over them eagerly. His mouth is barely open and he’s silent save for heavy breathing that echoes in the room. His eyes are as intense as ever and Steven’s whole body feels flushed under them.

“God, you look good,” Andrew says behind Steven. He’s not sure who it’s directed at, him or Adam, but either way Steven preens. Because both are true: he knows how Andrew feels about his body, but Adam looks undeniably good spread out on the bed and desperately stroking himself off.

“You too,” Adam says quietly. His fist around his cock speeds up and his hips start to push in his grip.

Andrew thrusts faster and harder as he lets out a deep groan. “God, this is— _fuck_.” He yanks Steven back to meet him, pushing impossibly deep inside him in the process. “You close?”

Steven whines and Adam nods jerkily. Steven puts his weight onto one elbow so he can lift his other arm and reach beneath him, between his legs. He gets a loose-fingered hold on his own cock and knows it won’t take long.

“Steven usually comes first,” Andrew says, slightly out of breath. “He takes it so good, he just loves it so much.”

Steven’s face is burning with humiliation but he’s loving it, because it’s _true_. Adam looks even more turned on by the knowledge, and the hand not around his prick is gripping the bedsheets.

“Come on, Steven. Show him.” Andrew’s goading him gently, sweetly. His grip is tight but grounding, and his cock is sliding into Steven at just the right angle. “Steven,” he grunts. “ _Come_ , Steven.”

Steven grips his own dick tighter and obeys. His shaft pulses in his grip and his come spills across the sheets, over his fingers. He bounces back against Andrew and chases the pleasure rushing through him. His eyes flutter shut just as Adam’s mouth drops open into a perfect ‘o’ shape. Steven whines against his arm as his cock gives a few last, feeble spurts before he goes limp.

Andrew’s hold keeps him on his knees and off the wet spot, and idly Steven is thankful for it. He loses himself in the haze of lust as Andrew keeps pounding into him, as Adam squirms on the other bed and paints his stomach with white streaks. Steven watches Adam’s chest heave as he comes down, then peers over his shoulder.

“Andrew, babe,” Steven coaxes. “Come for us, come on.”

Andrew does. He slams forward one last time and his come spills into Steven, hot and slick. Steven shivers at the sensation; it sends faint frissons of heat through his veins and Steven almost wishes he could get hard again.

He comes out of his thoughts as Andrew pulls out carefully.

“I’m gonna get a washcloth, okay?”

Steven nods sluggishly, and watches Adam do the same. Andrew, naked and uncaring for it, wanders into the bathroom. He flicks on the light and it illuminates the whole room with an amber glow.

Adam stares after him for a bit before his gaze slides to Steven. Steven smiles back at him, still on his knees even as they start to ache, and Adam lets out one of his shy, soft laughs.

Andrew comes back with a lukewarm washcloth in hand. He steps to Steven first and cleans between his cheeks and the backs of his thighs. He’s methodical and thorough, and gentle as he turns Steven onto his side so he can wipe at his stomach and hand, both still sticky with come.

Then he moves to Adam but instead of handing the washcloth over, he works in the same measured manner to clean up the other man. He drags the cloth over Adam’s softened dick, wringing a sharp inhale from open lips, then over his pubes and stomach. It all takes less than a few minutes, but it feels like it goes on for ages.

In a good way, Steven thinks.

Andrew heads back to the bathroom long enough to drop the washcloth in the sink. When he returns this time, he holds out a hand to Steven while looking at Adam.

“Mind if we share your bed?” He asks with a quirk of his lips.

Adam laughs again and his cheeks are stained pink. “Sure.” He pulls his boxers back on but yanks his pajama bottoms off and tosses them aside. He pats the empty space beside him.

Steven takes Andrew’s hand and clambers out bed awkwardly with his boxer-briefs still around his knees. He pulls them up before moving to Adam’s bed. “You gonna sleep in the nude?” He asks Andrew with a raised eyebrow.

Andrew makes a show of rolling his eyes but grabs his evidently abandoned boxers from the floor beside their bed. “If you insist,” he teases.

They crawl into Adam’s bed together, Steven sandwiched between the other two. it’s easy to lapse into comfortable silence, and Steven’s eyes are drooping before his head even really hits the pillow. He was tired before, he’s downright exhausted now. He’s about to doze off when Adam’s alluringly gentle voice sounds.

“Did you guys _really_ forget I was here?”

**Author's Note:**

>  **edited to add:** i'm taking prompts, check me out on [tumblr](http://punk-rock-yuppie.tumblr.com/post/175972711561/taking-requests)!


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